


wings of a dove

by windupclock



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Tattoos, allisons bi and constantly thirsting after her girlfriend. we stan, we love soft gfs!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 15:52:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15004226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windupclock/pseuds/windupclock
Summary: Renee gets a tattoo three months into her second senior year.





	wings of a dove

Renee gets a tattoo three months into her second senior year.

Allison is sitting cross-legged on their bed (by rights, it’s her bed, but it’s where the both of them end up more often than not, and it being theirs is a thought that warms her heart more than it has any right to), trying to make sense of her psychology textbook and failing. She has a pile of post-it notes in every color of the rainbow and a set of highlighters to match on the bed next to her, and there’s a pink one uncapped between her teeth when Renee opens the door.

“Hey,” Allison says, turning automatically like the heliotropic flower she is where Renee’s sunshine smile is concerned. “What’s up?”

Renee grins, a bashful edge to it, and turns her head. The tips of her hair are freshly dyed - four nights ago, she’d been sitting perched on the bathroom counter with her hair covered in tinfoil pieces as Allison held a blow-dryer in one hand and rested the other on Renee’s leg. Her hair is swept to one side in a tiny ponytail, exposing a white bandage on the side of her neck, just under her ear.

The noise Allison makes is entirely involuntary.

“C’mere,” she says, and she shoves her work out of the way to clear a space on the bed. “Oh my God, come here!”

Renee laughs and sits, crossing her legs at the ankles. Allison crawls forward on the bed, her hands touching gently at the edges of the bandage. “Can I-” Renee meets her eyes and nods, her smile blinding. Allison peels the bandage off, and her breath catches in her throat.

The tattoo is tiny and black, stark against Renee’s pale skin. Renee sucks her breath in sharply when Allison touches it. “Shit, sorry, did I hurt you?” Allison bites her lip, but Renee shakes her head, her face as light and open as before.

“Just not used to it,” she explains. “Kind of tender. But you can touch. I don’t mind.”

Allison’s heart jumps a little at Renee’s casual trust of her, her absolute faith that Allison will never hurt her. It’s hardly the first time Renee has said something like that so calmly, but it makes Allison experience a hundred emotions in the span of a minute every time. She settles on somewhere between joy and adoration and traces her finger across the outline of Renee’s tattoo.

It’s two doves, flying across her skin with their wings outstretched, the extended tips brushing against each other. They’re tilted towards each other, as if their beaks are reaching for each other. It encircles a brown mole below her ear, one that is as familiar to Allison as the lines of her own palm. She’s pressed countless kisses against it before, but she has a feeling they’ll become even more common in the days to come.

“It’s gorgeous, Ren,” Allison breathes. “I love it.”

“I thought you might.” Renee leans into Allison’s touch, and Allison wraps her arm around Renee’s back, leaning forward to hook her chin over Renee’s shoulder.

“What made you decide to get it?”

Renee shrugs, which jostles Allison slightly, but she doesn’t quite mind, just shifts her head so she can see Renee’s face better. She loves watching Renee - her round, blushing cheeks, the light sun-brushed freckles dotting her nose, her full and heart-shaped lips. Her girlfriend is beautiful.

“Well… doves are significant in Christianity, you know, and I love my cross, but, I don’t know, I wanted something that stood primarily for peace, and I love birds, so it wasn’t a hard choice. Besides, they, um, also symbolize love, and this one is you,” Renee says in a rush, guiding Allison’s hand to the leftmost bird. “The other one is me.”

Allison is more-than-slightly floored. “I love you,” she whispers, tracing gently over the bird’s extended wings. The fact that someone cares about her, loves her enough to do this, to put it permanently on their skin – she can’t quite believe it. God, she loves her.

“I love you more,” Renee says, her cheeks flushed with soft pinkness.

“Most.” 

Renee furrows her brows together into a look of mock anger, her mouth falling open. “Take that back, babe.”

“No,” Allison giggles. “Never!”

Renee springs forward and tackles Allison against the bed, her knees framing each side of Allison’s torso. She splays a hand next to each of Allison’s shoulders and tilts down. Most of her hair has fallen out of her ponytail, and it hangs down into Allison’s face. Allison reaches up and twirls several stray strands of Renee’s prismatic hair around her finger. “You’re pretty,” she murmurs. “I love your tattoo.”

“You’re pretty,” Renee counters. She leans down and brushes a kiss against the side of Allison’s mouth. “Actually, that’s an understatement. You’re beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Renee can’t argue with that.

* * *

 

Allison has one class with Renee, and it’s one where Renee sits directly in front of her and to her right, which happens to be the perfect angle for her to see Renee’s tattoo when she brushes her hair aside. And, because Allison’s girlfriend is a cruel woman, she develops a habit of brushing her hair aside  _ constantly  _ in that class.

Allison thinks she might die from girlfriend-related stress.

One Thursday, the professor steps out of class for a moment, and Renee immediately turns around to grin at Allison with that soft smile on her face. Allison leans forward and her hand finds Renee’s neck, covering the now-healed tattoo with her fingers. Renee tilts her head so it’s leaning against Allison’s hand, her hair brushing Allison’s fingers.

“Starbucks after this?”

“Like you had to ask,” Allison scoffs.

The professor comes back, and Renee turns back around, but Allison barely catches a word of the next half hour of the lecture, too caught up in the pristine beauty of Renee and her tattoo and her fingers habitually rubbing over the side of her neck.

Allison can’t quite believe how lucky she is.


End file.
